Don't you dot dot dot me, Mamma Mia!
by littleladyfaberry
Summary: Michelle wakes up to a surprise in her bed. (No, it's not a possum.) One-shot.


"Unnnghhh." Michelle moaned as morning light streamed over her face.

To her surprise, a similar sound came from the bundle of blankets beside her. She peeled back the comforter to find a sleepy, slightly cranky Sasha.

"Bleeeegh, go away, demon of light," she mumbled, pulling it back over her head.

"Sasha, what in the—"

"Michelle, are you still in bed?"

"Almost perpetually," she replied quickly, shifting so Fanny wouldn't notice her student was spooning with her. Although she couldn't for the life of her remember why the girl was there, she wanted to figure it out before Fanny got wind of it. "Why are you here? It's Sunday, no classes, and normally you're having brunch at someplace you can't take me because I may or may not have accidentally said the manager looks like the offspring of Gaston and Bambi. Why are you here waking me up when I could be sleeping off this satanic hangover? Please, Fanny, let me sleep off this horrible, horrible alcohol."

Fanny eyed the empty bottles scattered around the guest house skeptically.

"Honestly, Michelle..."

"Reason first, lecture later."

"I need to borrow your coffee maker."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You drink tea!"

"I'm in the mood for coffee today."

"Yes! Fine! Take it and be danged!"

"You really should lay off the booze, it makes you crazy."

"Oh, something around here's making me crazy all right, but it ain't my good friend liquor."

"Well, try to get out of bed at a decent hour."

And with that, Fanny flounced away, carrying the coffee maker.

"You should at least bring me some coffee when you're done!" Michelle shouted. She winced. Her voice was so loud. She muttered rebelliously, "You're not my real mom."

"God, you're making so much _noise_." The complaint came from the Sasha bundle that Michelle had temporarily forgotten.

"Well excuse me, your highness, but it's _my_ bed. I can be as loud as I want. Speaking of which, why exactly are you in my bed?"

"I didn't want to sleep on the couch or in the tub."

"Fair enough, fair enough. Did we have a sleepover last night?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of? What does that mean?"

"It means I came over because I couldn't stand being around my mom packing and you were getting hammered and let me get in on the action."

"The details are fuzzy, but the general outline is there. What else?"

"Nothing else. We did shots and you did a little drunk singing and dancing and then we crashed here."

"A little shady, but much better than expected."

"And we might have made out a little."

"WHAT?!"

"Relax." Sasha stretched out over the pillows like a cat.

"Sasha Henrietta Torres, you had better damn well be joking."

"I'm not. It's no big deal, calm down."

"No big deal? I could go to jail! I'm definitely going to hell. Why on earth would my drunk self think that kissing you would be even kind of acceptable?"

"Your drunk self has good taste."

"How did it even happen?"

"I'm not sure. I was pretty sloshed by that time too. You were sad drunk so I wanted to make you feel better so I went to give you a kiss on the cheek but I missed and then..."

"Don't you dot dot dot me, Mamma Mia. Details. How long? Was there tongue?"

"Of course there was tongue, idiot, I said make out, not just kiss."

"I am too hungover for this. I might as well mace the entire advanced ballet class again."

"It's not that bad."

"Sasha, you're seventeen. I'm seventy-one. You're in high school. When I was in high school, you weren't even born! Lincoln was president! We were burning witches! Do you see the problem here?"

"No," said Sasha petulantly. She sat up and hugged her knees.

"Look," Michelle massaged her temples and sat down on the edge of the bed, "it would be one thing if we were the same age and were messing around or experimenting, but, kiddo, experimenting with your much older teacher is going to get you into a lot of trouble."

"Don't tell me you never experimented."

"I never said that. But they were my own age or five, maybe ten years older, and, more importantly, I was already legal. What do you think your mom would do if she found out you'd been macking with your ballet teacher?"

"She wouldn't care."

"Try again."

"She'd probably come over here and kick your ass and then sue your pants off."

"Exactly. And forget legal ramifications, what do you think the town would think? Your friends?"

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that. I don't care what everyone else thinks, but Mel and Ginny would never let me live it down. And Boo... Well, I don't think she'd take it very well."

"Right." Michelle sighed, relieved that her message had come through. "So while I think you're a great, if somewhat impossible, kid and don't mind if you spend the night sometimes, let's keep our tongues to ourselves, huh?"

"Deal. You gonna make me sign a gum wrapper?"

"Nope. I'm gonna go get some coffee from Fanny. You want any?"

"Nah, I'm gonna go back to sleep." Sasha yawned. "Your bed is really comfortable."

"Right? But if Truly or someone wanders in, I slept on the couch."

"Of course."

"And I didn't give you any alcohol."

"I got it, I got it. Geeze. Go get your coffee."

"Fine."

As she made the short trip between her house and Fanny's, Michelle thought over the conversation that had just happened.

"Punk-ass kid," she said to herself, shaking her head. "Giving me a heart attack."

But try as she might, she couldn't quite stop the affectionate grin that spread over her face.


End file.
